Fallout: Gotham
by Cipah
Summary: America's warheads were launched at other countries across the world. The reason is a mystery. The response comes in the form of return fire. Under the threat of atomic annihilation, Batman rallies the people in WayneTec's underground bunkers. His closest compatriots, however, are brought to the Batcave. Will Gotham ever recover?
1. Chapter 1: The End

The coffee was bitter and piping hot, though that only helped with its intended purpose. As the liquid slipped into my gut I felt its heat bring new life to my tired bones. I'd burned the midnight oil and then some. It was worth it, though; I just needed to push a little further and then I could topple Penguin's weapons smuggling operation like a house of cards.

CRASH. That was abnormal. No clumsy cop running on fumes running into something. That was a violent crash. The shouting from the main hall just outside my door had shifted from the regular hustle and bustle of the GCPD at work to panicked anarchy. I paused for a moment, but it only took a single shot ringing in the air for me to leap from my chair. No sooner had I done so, however, then the air cut with another resounding CRASH. MY door flew from its hinges, hitting the wall. In the doorway stood a hulking figure of black and grey metal. If it wasn't for the pointy ears, glowing eyes and cape I almost wouldn't have recognised that it was-

"Batman?! What the hell are you-" I was promptly silenced by the Caped Crusader grabbing me by the collar and violently pulling me across my desk. He walked back into the main hall, dragging me behind him. I saw the other cops open fire, sparks danced across Batman's chest, his suit of armour seemed to protect him completely. He didn't even goddamn flinch. It made me question why he had never used it sooner.

Despite my loud protests, Batman didn't stop dragging me and the cops didn't stop trying to shoot him down. Soon we were out of the front doors and as they swung closed I saw that none of my colleagues had the gall to chase us down.

I was practically hurled into the passenger seat of the heavily armoured tank he calls transport. I noticed Montoya and Bullock in the backseat with their hands and feet bound. "Batman, what in blazes is all this about?" I asked, turning to him. He'd already began driving, not even waiting for the roof to fully close above us.

"I need to listen carefully, Jim," he said, his usual brooding tone hiding a fear that crept into my own heart once I'd discovered it. "There are missiles headed for America. Nuclear warheads. The country is going to be devastated. Whatever isn't destroyed in the blasts will be flooded with radiation."

"Ya gotta be kiddin'..." Bullock muttered. Montoya, trying to keep her composure better than her neighbour, spoke up next. "Why would there be nuclear missiles headed for us? This is unprovoked. We did nothing wrong."

"We fired first," Batman replied. "At around two o'clock the previous morning, all the warheads in America's possession were launched. The UK, Russia, China, France, Germany, Korea, Japan. It was as if America was declaring war against the world. This is the world's response."

"Barbara," I muttered involuntarily. "She's waiting for us at the manor."

"Manor? What are you ta-"

"I'm Bruce Wayne," he replied. It had come quickly and easily; it was obvious that he had been thinking about telling me-well, us-for a while leading up to this moment. It was enough to stun the three of us into silence. "I'm taking you back to my manor," he continued, completely focused on the road, "deep underneath the foundations is a network of caves that I repurposed to my base of operations-the Batcave. I have pods that can keep you in suspended animation until most of the radiation clears.

"But what about everyone in-" I knew I didn't have to ask. Batman didn't disappoint. "I planned for something of this nature. There are enough pods for the entire population of Gotham. I'll try and save as many as I can."

The rest of the journey seemed dreamlike. I sat back, the leather of the seats embracing me. I watched the lights of Gotham city stretch as we sped through the streets. I saw a man leaving a convenience store whose blood left his cheeks when he saw the Batmobile speeding up. I saw a bum curled up in a ball, barely even looking up as the car raced past. He was shivering. I saw a child with a homemade cap and cowl whose face lit up like it was Christmas upon seeing us drive by. He ran after, giving me a good look at him. Short, freckled, thick rim glasses over the mask. Of course, we were much faster than the kid. We left him behind in less than a moment.

The nondescript, crumbling buildings of Gotham city soon began to thin. It wasn't long after I noticed this that we left the limits of the city entirely. We climbed the hill without sacrificing any speed. Up to the gothic residence of Gotham's millionaire playboy, Gotham's dark knight. Home of the Waynes and the Bats alike.

The car skidded to a halt and the roof retreated back across the top of the vehicle. Batman hopped out, quickly cutting the bindings on Montoya and Bullock I climbed out, followed swiftly by my partners.

At the entranced stood Wayne's butler-Pennyworth, I think his name was-along with Barbara, Catwoman and a couple of other capes: Robin and Red Robin. Batman quickly approached Pennyworth, muttered something about some guy named Dick. I wasn't listening. All voices seemed to fade apart from that one voice.

"Dad!" she called, wheeling her way towards me. While seeing her in that chair still brought sadness and guilt, it was pride that came before all else. It only took moments for me to clear the distance. Her grip was tight; too tight for comfort. I didn't need comfort right now, though: I needed my daughter.

"Barbara, thank god you're ok. But how did you get here before me, sh-"

"She was already here, Jim." I released myself from my daughter's grip and turned to face Batman, who now towered over me.

"I-I'm sorry, I don't... What was she doing here?"

"I was Batgirl, dad." I nearly snapped my own neck with the speed I moved, bringing my gaze back to my daughter.

"Batgirl...? But Batgirl dis... but then..." Each piece seemed to fall into place and turned me back upon Gotham's saviour, a fire in my eyes that only a wounded father could muster. "How dare you. What gives you the right to drag her into this?! I thought we had a partnership-no-a goddamned friendship!" My voice continued to elevate, filling the manor courtyard with my anger. The boy wonder rolled his eyes. Pennyworth's closed, he shook ever so slightly and he looked so weak. Bullock looked back at Gotham, clearly feeling uncomfortable. I don't know what Babs was doing-I couldn't bring myself to look at her. "I gave you all the cooperation I could give," I continued, squaring my body up to His, "and you take _my daughter_?! He crippled her, for god's sake! He crippled her and it's all yo-"

"Stop." I whirled on my daughter again. Her clinical, even toned had more of an affect than shouting ever would. She knew that. She knew me. "I chose this path for myself," she began. "I made him take me on. I am proud of my service to this city as Batgirl and I am proud to continue serving as Bruce's eyes and ears." She paused for a moment, taking a breath. Her next words shook slightly, but they were still as composed and detached as she could keep them. "He didn't cripple me because he knew I was Batgirl. He crippled me because I was your daughter."

Her gaze didn't falter, those emerald eyes transfixed mine from behind the lenses of her glasses. Everything became unnaturally quiet for a moment, save for the quickening beats of my heart.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

My eyes stung, I blinked to fight back the tears but that only beckoned them to spring from their ducts, flooding from my eyes down to my cheeks. "I-I'm so so-"

"No. No apologies. This is the way things are, and I wouldn't change these circumstances for the world. You needed to help Gotham as the commissioner, just as I did as Batgirl. Just as I do as Oracle. I'm proud of myself and of you. So, don't apologise."

"I love you, Barbara." I managed feebly, feeling like a relic of a time long gone. It was clear that Barbara had surpassed me in every conceivable way. I could not have been prouder than I was that day. She just gave a nodding smile in return.

As the world around me slowly came back into focus, I noticed that both Batman and his car had disappeared. I must've been really out of it to not notice that tank rolling away. I stared at the city for a moment, at a loss for what to do. It was then that I heard Pennyworth speak up.

"Mister Fox, master Bruce has given the ok. Turn on the signal." I turned to see him speaking on a phone. He put it away once he finished, before pointing behind me, back at the city. I turned once again and saw what he was pointing at.

The Wayne Enterprises building had become a massive television, its windows becoming one huge screen. On the screen read the words 'NUCLEAR FALLOUT IMMINENT. RETREAT TO WAYNE ENTERPRISES BUILDING, STAFF WILL GUIDE YOU TO SAFETY.' It repeated on each wall of the building. You couldn't be anywhere in Gotham without seeing that tower. It only took a second before more stimuli bombarded me, this time in the form of an incredibly loud air raid siren. I could only guess that it came from the tower as well-the noise was so loud that it was impossible to tell where it originated.

"If you would come with me!" came Pennyworth's voice, barely audible over the siren, "I shall prepare your accommodations!"

We were led into the manor, into a room which looked like the study. Complete with an opulent desk, bookcases lined the walls to the left and the right; a chessboard and a grand piano. Wasting no time, Pennyworth quickly navigated the room. He approached the piano, playing a variety of off-key tunes. He then moved to the chessboard, switching the positions of the castle and king. He then approached a bookcase, one just left off centre on the left wall, and pulled a nondescript black, leather-bound book from the shelf. It only came out part way before stopping with a small click. He backed away slightly and the bookcase followed, bringing itself in front of the others before another click sent it sideways, covering the bookcase to its left. What was revealed was a large grey cylinder. The cylinder opened to accept us-it was a lift. Pennyworth, the Robins, Barbara and Catwoman didn't hesitate, walking in quickly. Montoya Bullock and I, did. Just slightly.

We descended quickly. The ride was short, but the speed with which we travelled made it clear that we had gone deep underground. The door opened to a blackness. Pitch. It didn't stay that way for long: lights slowly responded to our presence by flickering on. Revealing the lair of the Dark Knight to us. After a long time thinking of just what his base of operations was like, I cannot say I was disappointed. The floor was comprised of several disks made of a sturdy metal, held in place by a myriad of taut cables. The discs were connected by walkways. One of the discs held Batman's plane, the other a large computer, one had some showcase of the toys of the maniacs he'd taken down time and time again. Glancing to the left of the elevator, I could even make out an armoury. As prepared to cross the first walkway, I became painfully aware of the lack of safety rails anywhere in the cave. One wrong move could send any of us plummeting into what looked like a rushing waterway. I pushed my way further forwards in the line as Barbara was about to cross the first walkway and held the handles of her wheelchair tightly.

"Uh, dad, what are you doing?" she asked, glancing back.

"There are no railings here whatsoever. It's not safe for you to cross on your-"

"Dad," she interrupted, "I'll be fine. I'm a superhero, remember?"

"And I'm your goddamned father," came my gruff reply, nerves frayed. "Now you're going to let me get you across these walkways safely. Ok?"

She paused for a moment, weighing her options. "Fine," came her response eventually. She faced forwards once again.

"And no rolling your eyes at me, missy." I said, hoping my smile would stay hidden beneath my moustache.

Her head whipped back around quickly, her ponytail nearly whipping her in the face. "How did you...?"

"I'm your father, remember?" I didn't try to keep the smile hidden anymore. She noticed and returned the smile, sticking her tongue out at me.

After eventually reaching the disc with the computer (I insisted we take the walkways slowly, much to Robin's chagrin) Pennyworth approached the console and began tapping away at the many keyboards the table had to offer. The many screens burst to life, each with different lines of information that I couldn't even begin to follow. Looking between Barbara, the Robins and Alfred, it was clear they were a different matter.

"Hey, uh..." we wall turned to Bullock, who was kicking at the ground aimlessly. "Ain't she a bad guy?" He motioned to Catwoman, who let out a loud "hah!" in response, putting her hands on her hips.

"No," Robin replied bluntly. "She's good."

"An' we jus' gotta take you at youse word, huh pipsqueak?" Bullock put his hands in his coat pocket, grinning.

I was about to reprimand Bullock when Robin began to make a move towards him, Red Robin was quicker to notice, though, and held out an arm in front of him.

"Don't," he said and his younger partner relented, folding his arms sulkily. It was clear he was still just a kid. Too young to be caught up in all this, that's for sure. R. Robin, content that his partner wasn't going to do anything stupid, turned to Bullock.

"She's helped us out with more cases than you know," he said, gesturing to her. "She's one of the good ones, trust us."

The lady in question removed her mask, revealing a mess of short, black hair underneath. "The name's Selina Kyle, if that'll earn me any points in trust," she said, tossing the mask onto the desk holding the supercomputer. "There's little point in arresting me, though. The world as we know it is about to end."

With the whirr and hiss of machinery, the pods in question rose from underneath the disc, being lifted by arms until they were lined up in the large empty area to the computer's left. There were seven, lined up in a row.

"Where are the rest of them?" I asked Pennyworth as he turned away from the consoles.

"These are the only ones that reside on the premises. The rest are being overseen by mister Lucius Fox at the underground bunker underneath the WayneTec building."

"Fox, that one of Wayne's employees?"

"Yes, sir."

"He in on all this Batman stuff too?"

"...Yes, sir."

"Unbelievable," muttered Bullock. Some small part of me felt the same way. Some small, petty part.

"Does anyone know where Dick is?" Barbara asked.

"No. He should've been here by now, though. Did he get caught up with something back at Blüdhaven?" I doubt R. Robin expected an answer. It didn't take Batman to figure out that 'Dick' was Nightwing, commonly called 'the Bat of Blüdhaven'. It seems he's part of this little family, too.

The computer then began making a beeping noise, which seemed to prick the ears of everyone in the room. Lighting a few faces, too.

"This could be him now." R. Robin said, hope ringing in his voice.

With the press of a key by Pennyworth, those hopes were dashed.

"The missiles are almost here." Came Batman's voice. The shoulders of Barbara and R. Robin visibly sagged. Barbara's head even lowered slightly, hiding her face behind locks of red hair. "Are you all assembled?"

"I'm afraid master Dick has not arrived, sir." Pennyworth said.

There was silence for a moment, before his reply came. "The citizens that rallied to the WayneTec building have all been secured. I'll search for stragglers and keep an eye out for Dick too."

"Now, master Bruce, you can't-"

"Alfred." His voice was loud and primal. He was losing his cool. Batman was losing his cool.

"...Yes, master Bruce. I understand."

"Now," came Batman's voice, more even and controlled, "there is a reason that you all have been assembled in the Batcave and not the WayneTec building. When you all wake, the world will be devastated. You are the people I trust above all else. You are the hope for tomorrow. When you wake up, I want you to fix Gotham. Fix my city. Ple-" The feed cut, the Earth shook violently. Bullock was knocked to his feet. Pennyworth fell into the chair in front of the console and began quickly rolling back towards the edge of the disc. Barbara similarly rolled but I managed to grab the front of the wheelchair while R. Robin got the back. Robin dashed across the disc, catching the chair with a "Gotcha, old timer."

The lights cut and the darkness persisted for a moment before a few dimmer lights engaged. We all composed ourselves in silence.

"Thank god the emergency power still works," R. Robin offered, trying to cut the silence and the sombre mood. Both persisted despite his efforts. Pennyworth began to sob quietly, his body shuddering as he tried to repress them. R. Robin walked over to him, a hand reaching for his shoulder.

"It'll be ok," he said. "He'll have found some way to shield himself. He'll be ok. They both will." He then looked over in Barbara's direction. I followed his gaze to find my daughter dry-eyed and silent. She was very, very still, staring directly ahead. I cleared what little distance there was between us cautiously.

"Babs," I began, cautiously. "Are you ok?"

She remained motionless for a moment longer, before turning to face me in a manner that was almost robotic.

"Yeah," she replied, "I'm fine. Now, I have work to do." She wheeled past me, up to the console. She began tapping away, the monitors responding to her efforts. Looking over to the right of the console I spotted Montoya kneeling so she was eye-level with Robin.

"Are you ok? Were you and Batman close?" she asked.

"He was my dad," he replied, his voice neutral.

"Oh, I'm so sorry..." she said, lost for words. It was almost as if she didn't expect it. To be fair, neither did I. It was strange to picture Batman with a son.

"It's fine. We weren't that close anyway. He knew the risks, made the call. Life goes on." He looked over to her and smiled, seemingly trying to raise her spirits. The roles had seemingly reversed, something Montoya had clearly picked up on if the shocked look on her face was any indication.

"Done," Barbara said from the console. Pressing one last key, lights showered the inside of the pods in an aqua-blue glow.

"So, what are these for, exactly?" Bullock asked, approaching the pods.

"Well, as I'm sure you're aware, the conditions on the surface are currently uninhabitable. They'll remain that way for a while. These pods will cryogenically preserve us. They're powered by solar panels up on the surface, and they have several backups just in case something happens. They're attached to sensors up on the surface that can detect the level of radiation up on the surface. When we can go outside without dying, the pods will safely defrost us and wake us up."

"Ah... creepy."

"Speaking of which, it's time." She wheeled herself towards the pods. "Let's get going." The Robins lifted her out of her chair and placed her into the pod before closing the door. Pennyworth approached and pressed a few buttons.

"Wait, I never had a chance to say goodbye!" I said, walking over. It was too late, though. The glass was beginning to ice over. Barbara closed her eyes as her skin turned an icy white. Frost gathered on her body and after a few seconds the mist her breath was making stopped appearing, as if she was dead. It disturbed me to no end, seeing my daughter like that. I was tempted to rip the damn door open.

"Don't worry, mister Gordon," R. Robin said, seeing my discomfort with the situation. "You don't need to say goodbye. You'll be seeing her again in just a minute." He gave me a reaffirming smile. The process was repeated with Bullock, Montoya, Catwoman, Robin and finally R. Robin. I insisted I go last. After seeing Barbara's breath just stop coming like that, I felt nervous. It happened with all the others, too, which did nothing to reassure me. Finally, it was just Pennyworth and I left.

"I, uh, I guess I'll see you on the other side, Mr. Pennyworth."

"Please, sir, Alfred is fine."

"Ok then, Alfred... I'm... I'm sorry for your loss."

"It's a loss for us all, sir. A loss for us all." He smiled sadly before gesturing to the pod.

I climbed inside, deep blue leather ran up the inside of the pod. Resting my back against it I felt as comfortable as I was going to get.

Pennyw... Alfred stepped up to the small keypad beside the door to my pod, pressing a few keys. The door began to swing down.

"But thank you." He said, and the door sealed shut. As the inside pressurised with plumes of steam and I felt the temperature plummet. The last sight I saw was Alfred turning his back on me and weeping uncontrollably.


	2. Chapter 2: From the Ashes

I didn't dream while I was in there. I didn't feel the cold that stayed my breath and permeated my skin, flesh and bone. The cold that stilled my heart, made me indistinguishable for a corpse. It made me think back to the physiology of Victor Fries, and the parallels that I drew between us surely would have made me shiver even in that state. It's scary to realise just how similar the heroes and villains can be sometimes.

Upon awakening, my mind was momentarily sent into a panic. It had not felt as if any time had passed, which created a sort of temporal dissonance between my mind and reality. Like jet lag on an extreme, mind-shattering level. As the pod slowly heated up and frost melted down into liquid, my brain slowly began to send signals to the rest of my body again. I regained the ability to move, however I was quite stiff. I began to feel the biting cold, however the pods soon ensured that it gave way to warmth. My heart resumed its rhythmic beat, which I could confirm from the rushing of blood from within my ears. Looking out of the front window of my body I saw that I was the second-to-last person to be unfrozen, as everyone was present but Bullock. They all looked gaunt, perhaps partly from waking up and partly from still coming to terms with the situation. They all seemed huddled together, apart from Alfred who seemed busy bringing everything back online at the console of the supercomputer. As my body began to feel some semblance of normalcy, the pod hissed as the front door raised to let me out. Montoya approached as I stepped out and caught me as my legs gave way underneath me.

"It happened to all of us," she said, draping my arm around her shoulder and holding my upright as I tested my weight on my own legs. "Apparently, your legs just need to get used to holding your body again. I feel sorry for Bullock's legs she says glancing over at his pod. I glanced over too, only to be met with a half-delirious Bullock holding a middle finger up in our direction. It was impressive that he managed to read her lips in that state. Montoya sent her own finger right back as Catwoman went to help him out.

After a few minutes, I had regained the ability to stand. Bullock was still adjusting and I could tell that the more time it took, the more he felt that Montoya's jab held weight. Using me newly re-acquired motor functions, I made my way to Alfred, recalling his breakdown as my pod did its work.

"Hey, I know this must be rough on you..." I began, hand on the back of his chair.

"Wait!" Barbara's hoarse voice called, though it was too late. Alfred Pennyworth was nothing but bones. I momentarily wished that the chair had not masked all but his legs from sight, otherwise I would have noticed this. It was one of the sights that, once seen, burned themselves into the brain. Sinking their teeth in so deeply that you knew you would always bear the scars.

The bones looked brittle. They were flaking, as could be seen by Alfred's suit, which was covered in little bits of him. There was no flesh left to be seen, only the corpses of insects which had fattened themselves on him. There was a little lump underneath his shirt which, on inspection, was the corpse of one of the many bats that called this cave home. Looking up, I could see many more corpses littered throughout the cave. They must have starved when the cave was locked down to prevent any radiation from leaking in and killing us.

"What happened to him?" I asked, turning to my compatriots. Bullock looked up at me, confused. "Why didn't he get in the pod?"

"Dad, the pods could only be activated from the outside," she said. "One person had to stay out to seal the last person in. Alfred volunteered from the beginning. His heart couldn't have handled the process anyway. He'd been having palpations for a while, induced through both old age and stress. He had to be the one." She wasn't even looking at me anymore. It was clear she was just trying to convince herself, though she didn't believe it. I knew that she felt she had to be the one. I knew why, too.

"We need to bury him," she said, wheeling herself up to his chair. "In Wayne Manor's graveyard. With... with his family." R. Robin's gaze went to the ground at this. Catwoman tried to keep herself busy with Bullock, though it was clear she was also affected.

I put a hand on my daughter's shoulder. "I agree," I said. "Let's go."

I repurposed a drop-pod for one of Batman's gadgets into a makeshift coffin for what was left of him. It was more fit as an urn, though. Especially given how the bones of the butler crumbled to the touch. We eventually had to scoop the remains up with a dustpan and brush, like he was nothing but trash. I wrapped the pod in his uniform, masking the bat symbol embossed on the pod's door. R. Robin, who told me his name was Tim after I called him that to his face, requested to be the one to carry the pod. There was sadness in his expression, though it was barely visible. It was a deep respect for the man in his arms that dominated his expression, setting his jaw into a seriousness that was reminiscent of the Batman himself.

We each filed into the elevator and the doors closed our view on the dead bats in the dimly lit cave. The journey was deathly silent. Not even Bullock dared speak, something he was well known for doing back in the precinct.

No preparation could have been made for the moment those doors opened themselves up again. There was little of the mansion left standing. Most of it was strew on the ground in little pieces. The legacy of the Waynes was reduced to rubble and scattered wealth. The sky was mostly clear and the sun shone merrily upon the wasteland of Gotham. Looking out towards the city, the one thing that was immediately noticeable was that the only skyscraper to survive the event was the WayneTec building. This didn't seem very surprising to me, considering what I had learnt about the Wayne himself. The buildings I could make out were in varying degrees of destruction. It was worth noting, however, that it looked like some had been built back up again after the blast.

"Come on," Robin said, turning his back on Gotham. "To the graveyard."

The small graveyard of the manor was another unsettling sight. The blast had unearthed a lot of the graves. Some coffins had even been brought completely out of the ground and flung far from their holes. Some had opened and released the bones of their occupants into the world once again, their eyeless sockets gazing upon their wasted city. We were led to the one intact grave remaining.

"They would survive," Robin said. "Waynes are survivors."

The hole was dug quickly. With the combined efforts of Montoya, Robin, Bullock, Catwoman and I, we managed to make a hole with our bare hands that was large enough to accommodate the small coffin. Tim placed him down gently, tenderly.

"You were like a grandfather to me," he said quietly. "I'll never forget you." We replaced the earth on top of the pod and stood, heads bowed, for a while longer. After some time had passed, we eventually were snapped out of it by the Red Robin, Tim.

"He wouldn't want us to stay inactive on his account," he said. "We need to get to work."

We retreated back down into the Batcave to prepare. Barbara moved the chair before the supercomputer to one side, positioning her own wheelchair in its place. She began tapping away at the computer, bringing it fully back to life.

"We're gonna need to start by scoping Gotham out," she said, not taking her eyes from the monitors. "I'll stay here with Bullock and Montoya and dad and give you whatever info I can."

"No way," Montoya and I said in unison, glancing at one another as we both noticed.

"Listen," Barbara said, turning to face us, "Tim and Damien are superheroes. You aren't. You probably won't be able to handle what's out there like they can."

"Bullcrap," I said, while Montoya simply wandered off. "I am a cop of this city: it's my damn job to protect it."

"There's only so much you can do. You're not an army. Just look at what happened to the city, you couldn't stop that."

"Last time I checked, neither could they."

"Bruce gave his life to ensure that the citizens of Gotham could survive. He did _far_ more than the police could ever-"

"Tadaa." Came Montoya's deadpan voice. As all eyes turned on her, the tension of the situation was instantly diffused. Montoya was wearing what looked like a variation of one of Batman's old suits. It clung like a second skin, black as pitch. The belt, gloves, boots and bat-symbol were crimson. The mask was no longer a cowl, but instead a large red V that covered the same parts of her face that Batman's cowl did. The tips of the V emulated the ears of the cowl. It left room in the back for her hair to come out.

I turned on Barbara. "Was _that_ the kind of outfit he planned for you to wear when you grew up? All tight and-"

"Relax there, commissioner," Montoya grinned. "This wasn't meant for your daughter. I found a terminal beside the little showcase this thing was in. It was meant for the Cat."

She gestured towards Catwoman, who scoffed. "Oh please," she said, picking up her mask and putting it on. "I'd never wear something like that. Bats are such ugly little things. I'll always be a cat at heart."

"Then you won't mind if I borrow this, then," she replied before turning her attention to Barbara. "See? There we are. Superhero. I can go now."

She sighed, before relenting. "Ok, well, fine, but my dad still can't-"

"Don't be so sure," I replied, heading over the way Montoya had disappeared to; the armoury. I looked at the different outfits on display. A Robin costume, a few of the older Batman designs. I picked one out and quickly put it on.

The suit I chose had more padding than that of Montoya's or the Robins. It was meant for somebody who couldn't move as quickly and was designed to take more hits. Even though I was essentially wearing a suit of armour, it never felt like I was. It was light, almost as if it was afraid to allow its full weight to rest upon me.

I came back to the disc with the supercomputer, where Barbara's eyes widened and her head and hands shook vigorously in denial.

"Oh, no," she said quickly. "No, no, no."

"Listen," I said. "Gotham needs help. Either I go out there and try to help it as the police commissioner, which likely leads to me getting killed, or I head out there as Batman and really start to make a goddamn difference. Either way, I'm going out there."

"But I don't want you to get hurt dad."

"I was a cop in Gotham for years. It's a bit late for that. Besides, with you providing back up from here, we won't get hurt, will we?"

"But I'm not sure what I'll even be able to do from here."

"I believe in you, Babs. I know you'll be able to do something."

She stayed silent for several minutes, and I kept my eyes locked on hers. Eventually, painfully, reluctantly, she gave in.

"If you can't keep up with them on this first run," she began, motioning to the Robins, "then I will make sure that you don't go out like this, ok."

"Don't worry," I replied, leaving no time for doubt. "That won't happen."

"You'd better be right," she said, returning her attention to the console. We sat around for a while, during which she tapped tirelessly away at the keyboard. Eventually she turned back to us.

"Right, well, as you might have guessed I can't really get much. The bombs took out most of the flimsier electronics. Everything's still working fine at the WayneTec building, though, so we should start there. The people of Gotham that made it there must be waking up just now, too."

"So first on the list," Tim surmised, "is to get to Wayne Tower and keep order while the people there wake up, right?"

"Right," Barbara replied. "But be careful. It's been hundreds of years out there; we have no idea what affect the radiation could have had."

"Wait, hundred'sa years?!" Bullock blurted out.

"Yeah, why do you think we were frozen? Did you not see Alfred's body?" Damien turned to me. "You sure this guy's a detective?"

"I never said he was a good one," I replied."

"...Dat really hurts, commish."

"It's not commissioner anymore," Tim said, putting a hand on my shoulder and nodding. "Isn't that right, Batman?"

I returned the nod. "Right."

"But," he said, "first we really should do something about those." He pointed at my glasses, which were perched as best as I could manage them on the front of the cowl.

"That shouldn't be a problem," Barbara said, turning to the console. "I know what type of lenses he uses. Take them off, dad."

I did what I was asked. Everything remained blurry for a moment, but that quickly changed. It was remarkable how the world seemed to shift once again into perfect clarity before my eyes.

"How did you do that?" I asked.

"Easy there," Barbara replied, "the cowl has lenses too. It's connected to the computer. I can have you seeing heat signatures or trace amounts of chemicals in the air with the push of a button too. It's no miracle."

"Ah. I see."

"C'mon," Damien said, already heading to the elevator out of the cave. "Let's get going."

"Wouldn't it be easier to just take the plane?" I asked, pointing to it, still securely in place where it had been the first time we entered the cave.

"Best not to risk that just yet," Tim said, following Damien. "We don't know what affect the bombs had on flying."

I nodded before turning back to Barbara. I kissed her gently on the forehead before holding her tightly in my arms. "I'll be back soon, honey, ok?"

"I know you will," she said, returning the hug with just as much vigour. "I know you will."

I released her and followed Selina, Tim, Damien and Montoya as they headed towards the elevator.

"Oh, and Bullock?" I called back to the computer as I stepped into the elevator.

"Yeah?" He yelled back.

"Clean up the damn bat corpses, will ya?"

Bullock cursed, Barbara laughed, the doors closed.

It was time to fix Gotham.


End file.
